


Adored

by unfoldingbliss



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, I mean not exactly but you get the gist, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11541393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfoldingbliss/pseuds/unfoldingbliss
Summary: A challenge from the Dragon Ball Kink Meme: Fed up with everyone receiving their happy endings, Bra decides to use the dragon balls to wish up a Saiyan worthy of her affection. However, the man that falls from the sky might carry more baggage than she bargained for. [Raditz/Bra] [A re-post from Fanfiction.net, new updates here!]





	1. Wanna Be Adored, Side A

"Thank you all so much for being here!" Goten's crisp voice filled the Capsule Corp. reception hall, tipping his glass of champagne towards the crowd in front of him. "Really, it means the world to both Valese and I that so many of our friends could attend our wedding!"

"Hey, you can't toast at your own wedding!" Trunks snickered to his left, and snatched the glass from Goten's hands as he stood up. "You need to leave  _that_  to the best man and maid of honor."

"Oh! Right," Goten tried to laugh, but a bright pink soon flushed across his cheeks, alerting the audience of his embarrassment. "Got a little carried away."

"It's okay, babe," Valese consoled him as he sat down. She leaned in and rubbed at his shoulders, her giddy smile never leaving her face. "I thought it was great!"

As Trunks toasted the audience and delivered his speech, a young woman two seats down from the newlyweds clawed her nails into her biceps, grinding her teeth as Valese continued to coo over Goten. She adorned his face with soft butterfly kisses, the affectionate display piercing the woman's chest with sharp heat.  _Ugh. Gag me._

"Bra, you know it's rude to stare," another young woman swatted her shoulder, furrowing her brows in disapproval. "I know you're not into the super mushy stuff, but could you control that Saiyan temper of yours for more than two minutes?"

"I'm not staring, Marron" Bra hissed back. "They're just being so obvious about it."

"What do you expect?" Marron asked. "They just got  _married_! How else do you want them to act?"

Bra didn't reply, choosing to bite back the venomous words itching at her throat. Really, Marron was going ask her _that_? She was the one who knew best.

When the maid of honor finished her speech, Goten and Valese took to the floor, dancing to an old melody from Bra's grandfather's time. Of course, they both looked riveting. Goten was in a proper black tux, his hair trimmed and eyes bright. Meanwhile, Valese swung her hips in an ivory vintage gown patterned with lace roses, her face still as gorgeous as the day Bra met her. It ate at Bra - how perfect it all was, how easily the two fit. It didn't matter that Valese wasn't of Saiyan blood or she had almost no interest in the martial arts. She was fun and loving and  _oh-so-sweet_ , traits that fit Goten's optimism and carefree attitude like a glove. What else could Bra offer, besides her pretty face and a world of fortunes?

"You're staring again," Marron whispered, her voice much softer than it was before.

"We're supposed to be staring," Bra replied, tearing at the fine seams of her yellow bridesmaid gown. "That's what the dance is for."

"You don't have to put up with it, Bra," her friend reassured her. "Pan and Uub are on the balcony, you know. Maybe you should join them: you can't see the party from there."

"Like I need to see another couple going all goo-goo ga-ga," she sighed, the ghost of a smile crawling onto her face. She didn't mind Pan and Uub's fledgling relationship; they were that awkward kind of cute. Still, it was another painful reminder of something she didn't have. Something she had wanted for a long,  _long_  time.

Marron laughed a little, happy to see the lights in Bra's eyes return, "Oh, please. They're probably sparring more than anything. Pan doesn't have the whole 'date' thing down yet."

"But I'm sure  _you_  do, blondie." Both women looked up to see Trunks hovering over Marron, his hand extended towards her. "And it would be in bad taste if the best man didn't show his girlfriend a good time on the dance floor, right?"

"Ugh, could you be any more of corndog?" Bra rolled her eyes good-naturedly, unsurprised how Marron drank it all in, a dark flush washing over her face.

"Well…" Marron hesitated, her gaze conflicted and concerned. "Bra is -"

"Going to see if I can convince Chi-Chi to bring out the cake early," Bra said, standing up and winking at the couple. "I'm dying for some chocolate."

"Oh… um, okay," Marron nodded, taking Trunks' hands as he led them towards the dance-floor. "Be careful, okay?"

"Sure, sure!" Bra replied. "Go have fun for me!"

She watched as the pair disappeared into the dancing crowd, no doubt making their way towards Valese and Goten. Despite Bra's disapproval of their relationship, Marron and Valese had become close friends over the past two years, shopping and taking monthly outings to the beach while Bra focused on her studies. It had hurt then and still hurt a little now. There was nothing wrong with their friendship, just like there was nothing wrong with the love Goten and Valese shared. Hell, there was nothing wrong with Valese herself – she was charming, funny, and kind.

And older: couldn't forget that. Just the thought sent her back to one of her first memories of Goten. Infatuation had slammed into her heart when he beamed at her, like the sun itself poured from his heartfelt smile and rosy cheeks. She had found him infinitely adorable, a level no human boy could ever soar above.

And even then, when she had announced at the dinner table they would marry, that she was his destiny, he and her brother had laughed, insisting she was much too young for those kinds of dreams.

 _Too young then and too late for a second glance now_ , Bra thought, take one last glimpse of the party before exiting out of the hall. It wasn't fair: Trunks had finally returned Marron's undying love, and Pan, a girl with almost all of her time invested in sparring and silly video games, had scored someone as wonderful ( _and hot_ ) as the tender-hearted Uub. Bra had dated human boys in the past, particularly when she needed someone to lavish her with endearing compliments and harmless attention. It all paled in comparison, however. Wasn't she a princess? Shouldn't someone like Goten fall into her lap, no questions asked?

 _If only Planet Vegeta was still around_ , Bra sighed, her feet dragging across the botanical gardens.  _Maybe then I could find someone worth my time_.

Another sigh, a step later, and then…

"That's it!" Bra exclaimed, clapping her hands at the genius idea. It was brilliant - it was almost too easy! Someone like Goten had to have lived on Planet Vegeta at one point—he  _was_  part Saiyan. No doubt just as handsome, perhaps a little more suave and attentive…

Bra squealed at her budding idea, jumping high into the air and staying afloat as a surge of adrenaline flooded her veins. She could have a Saiyan, a  _real_ Saiyan! And if she couldn't have Goten, didn't she deserve the absolute best instead?

After she finished giggling and twirling above the garden, Bra descended back onto the fresh grass and worked on a plan. Considering her parents and friends were still inside the reception hall, she could make an easy getaway from Capsule Corp. within the next hour. The dragon ball radar always sat atop her mother's bedside table, with capsules for both a well-applianced "tent" and jet nestled inside the table's lone drawer. The jet was superfluous, but it would make her life easier if she was too tired to fly. Clothes would be an issue—all of her winter apparel was stowed in the closet on the third floor, and she assumed one or two of the balls were somewhere up north. But, as long as she kept quiet and kept her ki at an all-time low, her father wouldn't pick up on her misdeeds.

Once Bra finished the material preparations, the last of her tasks involved a letter to her parents and Trunks, insisting she was totally okay and in no need of any juvenile rescue.

 _I have about two weeks until school starts up again_ , Bra scribbled onto the dark red stationary, making sure it didn't appear as rushed as she felt. _I would like to spend that time traveling alone, taking in the world like mom did when she was younger_.  _I'm sure I'll be fine—I have all the food and clothes I need, plus dad's training! If I get into any trouble, I'll definitely call - don't worry about that!_   _Tell Goten and Valese congrats! Love, Bra_.

As she folded up the letter and placed it on her parents' bed, Bra faintly wondered if this wish could give her what she wanted. She had her family's love. She had her friends' admiration and respect.

But more than anything, Bra wanted complete and total adoration from a man she loved and adored in return. And more than ever before, she believed only a Saiyan could grant that searing wish.


	2. Wanna Be Adored, Side B

Obtaining the first six dragon balls was a piece of cake (which consequently reminded Bra of the triple chocolate decadence she had missed at the reception, _dammit_ ). The first two had been near one another—the three-star ball off the coast of a deserted island and the six-star ball a few hundred feet below sea level a mile away. She discovered the seven-star ball in the dunes near Yamcha's domain—Bra had kept her ki low and used the jet as she scoured the hot sands. No need for her nosy godfather to alert her mother. It was probable she and her father had already deduced her plans, however; she had taken the dragon ball radar. Still, they wouldn't know what she wanted it for.

The one-star and two-stars inhabited the arctic tundra and proved more difficult to snatch up than the other three. The hikes up both mountain peaks were strenuous even with her advanced resilience to the cold, and she couldn't help but whine as her favorite coat tore on a jagged cliff. Finally, she found the five-star ball in the rain forests surrounded by a horde of wild apes. Despite a lone scratch beneath her eyebrow and the shrill cries of the apes echoing in her ears, Bra left the forest unharmed.

And so with six balls packed into her satchel, the illustrious four-star dragon ball was all that remained.

 _Yeah. That'll be easy,_ Bra scoffed. While it would have been smart to grab the four-star first, it would have made it painfully obvious to her parents and everyone else she knew that no, this wasn't some impromptu soul-searching gig. It also would've been more than enough to piss off her mother and demand she come back home.

But none of those thoughts mattered, at least not now. There was still a ball to grab, tucked on top of Gohan's desk on the left side of his library. Bra knew from first-hand experience that Friday nights were reserved for dining at Goku and Chi-Chi's house, meaning that the dragon ball sat unguarded. She only had to worry about her ki; both Gohan and Pan could pick up even the slightest rise. Throw Goku and his instant transmission into the equation, and Bra's misadventure would end with hellish scoldings from any of the take-charge women in her life.

 _Well, I only have another hour and next Friday is scheduling at the university so…_  Bra's thoughts trailed, searching for an opening besides the chimney she could squeeze through. She could wash her clothes afterward, but she wasn't sure what to do with soot-covered clothes (and she didn't want her skin and hair covered in soot, period).

But no such luck: every door and window was shut and locked. Bra was almost surprised, considering how far out in the countryside they were. Then again, Videl was Hercule's daughter. Her house probably had as much security as Capsule Corp. 

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm doing this," Bra groaned, pinching her nose as she descended the chimney. Good thing she was lean and lithe like her mother—there was no way an amazon like Pan could slip through the narrow path unless she pummeled through the brick itself.

 _I guess that's another advantage I have over her,_ Bra smirked as she crawled out of the fireplace, her eyes darting towards the library and Gohan's lavish, mahogany desk. Her smirk morphed into a smile when she caught sight of the ball, nestled onto the boyish red hat she had seen on the older half-Saiyan in photographs. She scurried up onto the balls of her feet and glided towards the desk, making sure the rest of the room stood untouched. No need for Gohan to suspect a robbery. As soon as she placed the four-star ball into her satchel, Bra jotted down a note from the same red stationary she'd used for her parents: within a year, she'd scrounge up the four-star ball for the Son family again, accompanied by a handsome new car of their choice for Pan's 19th birthday.

Bra placed the letter on top of the desk, leaving it with enough zeni for an expensive night on the town. Money never seemed to buy any of the Sons, but it couldn't hurt to try. Besides, Bra was sure months had passed since Gohan and Videl's last proper date. Pan was a teenager with an older boyfriend, after all.

By the time seven o'clock rolled around and Gohan, Videl, and Pan were saying their goodbyes, Bra was flying towards the other side of the continent where only the likes of her brother or father could ever track her down. She wasn't as strong or as fast as her other Saiyan counterparts, but she was by far the stealthiest of the seven; it would take years of constant contact to find her in a throng of low-level ki.

It was around midnight when she stopped, hitting the soft sand with a loud poof. The desert was the perfect location to summon the dragon—there were few (if any) people around, and any disturbances could be excused as a large sandstorm. Although, having only seen Shenron once before, Bra couldn't recall if he had a power level that could alert her family and friends.

"No risk, no reward," Bra said, plopping each dragon ball from her satchel onto the sand until they formed a circle. "And this is a pretty big reward."

Bra took a sharp breath, willing her stammering heart to still. She clenched her fists, stomach churning as the incantation she learned from her mother slipped past her shaky lips, "Eternal dragon, by thy name I summon thee forth: Shenron!"

Slowly, the sand beneath her swirled, the seven balls beside her flashing a bright yellow. Another yellow light sky-rocketed from the circle, blasting sand into Bra's face and clothes. She wanted to close her eyes to avoid the sting of the surging storm, but she couldn't look away; her stare widened as the light took form, morphing into the dragon that had revived her family and friends years before she was born. It was a marvel to uphold, something she was sure she could never tire of.

"Choose your words carefully, mortal," a deep voice penetrated through the light, the yellow shifting into a scaly green, red eyes taking in the half-Saiyan before him. "I will grant you two wishes. Speak your first."

"Oh, that's right," Bra realized, the shock and awe of Shenron's appearance fading. "I get two wishes. Hmmm…well, I could always ask for some—wait, don't get ahead of yourself, Bra. But, you can never have too much of—no, no, there's still the–"

"My patience thins, mortal," Shenron boomed, freezing Bra's tongue to the roof of her mouth. "What is your first wish?"

Bra sputtered, clearing out her throat before speaking again. Her heart beat like a hummingbird's, her veins throbbed against her skin - this was harder than she thought. "Right, my first wish. Well… I wish to revive a male Saiyan like Son Goten from Earth, and for him to be brought to this location… please."

Shenron's red eyes gleamed as her words resounded around them, the sand kicking up once again, "Your wish… _will_  be granted."

Her heart skipped at the confirmation, head buzzing with joyous anticipation. She was… she was getting her wish! Not a single problem arose from her venture—no crazy army or pirates or aliens or even a lowlife thief! Perhaps her mother and Goku were just a magnet for bad luck.

Her thoughts had little time to wander farther: a blinding beam of light flickered before her eyes, the form of a man taking shape at her feet. Bra held her breath as she watched the light engulf the man she had revived; his fingers and arms, legs and toes all becoming flesh and bone. The last of him to appear was his face, heart-shaped with a well-defined jaw and cheekbones. His expression was soft in sleep, his thick brows complimenting his angular eyes and long nose. His hair threw Bra off-guard—it was longer than hers by far, traveling past his forearms and waist; nothing a haircut couldn't change, however. But wow, what a pair of lips, even had a hint of pin—

"Oh my god, he's naked," Bra gasped as the white light surrounding the man dissipated, leaving him bare on the sand. Although she was tempted to dip her gaze past his broad chest and the tail wrapped around his taut waist, Bra opted to cover her eyes instead. Her titles of heiress and princess had to stand for something: she had some shame.

"Your first wish has been granted," Shenron stated, his red eyes reverting to their normal shade. "What is your second wish?"

"Uh…" Bra started, taking another quick glance at the man beneath her. Well, he was naked and she sure as hell had nothing that would fit someone of his size… "I wish for a complete, comfortable wardrobe for the man you revived… inside a capsule!"

"Your wish… _will_ be granted," Shenron replied, eyes glowing once again. A small beam of light shot from its claws and into Bra's hands, her fingertips buzzing and warm. Like the man beneath and the dragon above, the light took shape, transforming into the capsule she had wished for. It was a solid red, the number eight painted on its side.

"Oh, clever," Bra chuckled. "The eighth Saiyan and his little capsule… thank you very much, Shenron!"

"You are welcome," Shenron seemed to nod at her, his voice a tad more sincere. "I must go now."

And just like that, the dragon immersed itself in the same light it had before, the dragon balls flashing yellow and white as they shot up into the air. As Shenron vanished, the dragon balls scattered from above her, traveling to every corner of the world. The surrounding light soon waned and the sand settled, leaving her in the dark with the Saiyan man inches away.

With a man that was very much naked.

 _Forgot to ask for some clothes on him... good going Miss Briefs,_ Bra berated herself, walking closer to capture a better look at his shadowed face. The man was still asleep, and Bra assumed his body was trying to recover from his decades of death. It could be another day before he roused from his slumber. But that didn't matter; she had another week before her parents expected her home. That would be more than enough time.

"But first thing's first," Bra said, clicking the capsule between her fingers and throwing it on the sand. "Time to play dress up."

One abrupt cloud of smoke later and Bra came face-to-face with a luxurious imitation of a walk-in closet, filled to the brim with various men's attire. Sports gear, casual wear, tuxedos, swimsuits… Shenron had been generous. The dragon thought of everything.

"Hmmm… how about a t-shirt and sweatpants for now?" Bra asked, not expecting a reply. She plucked a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats from a drawer and hastily tossed them on the man, making sure her hands and gaze didn't roam too far south. Still, her eyes drank in his strong build, wondering what it would feel like to have such a body wrapped around her. Most of the men she had been with were pieces of pretty arm candy, their physiques similar to Goten's. This man's, however, was unlike her childhood crush in every way. Maybe that was a good thing.

When she finished clothing him, Bra secured the wardrobe back into its capsule, throwing it into her satchel. Though the jet would support the both of them, she decided to carry the man over her shoulders, giggling as stubble brushed up against her chin. It was kind of romantic; like she was a knight and he was a prince she saved from the clutches of an evil dragon. Though Shenron was far from evil and she was pretty sure he wasn't a prince…

"But hey," Bra said as she flew off towards a nearby mountain range with a freshwater lake. "That's what pretend is for, right?"

Her only response was a small moan, the first noise that had escaped him since his revival. It wasn't as deep as she expected, but masculine nonetheless. She imagined he had a smooth, rich voice, one that could fill a room at a mere whisper.

Bra hoped she could hear it soon, maybe over breakfast.

 _Probably has the typical Saiyan's appetite,_ Bra mused, a nervous smile stretching across her face as they landed in a clearing half a mile away from the lake.  _Hope he likes fish and eggs… lots and lots of fish and eggs_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, here are the ages for the main characters. I changed them a tad from the original version because I decided to obsess about it for awhile, haha. Note that I am sticking to original DBZ canon, where it appeared Bra was older than Pan by at least two years. Also, this fic takes place approximately 35 years after Raditz's death. 
> 
> UPDATE 03/13/2018: ALRIGHT SO, I decided to combine the original canon of Goku being sent to Earth a few days after he was born with Dragon Ball Minus, where he had spent his first three years in incubation. Because I want Raditz to be six when the Planet Vegeta is destroyed, I had originally made him six years older than Goku. But, due to Dragon Ball Minus and both of Vegeta and Raditz's statures, they don't seem much older than seven or eight. Therefore, I decided to make Raditz four years older than Goku, meaning he's actually a year younger than Vegeta and the same age as Bulma when he arrives on Earth. And, instead of the planet exploding when Goku is three, he's actually two (this will play a part in Raditz's flashbacks). That gives him less time in incubation, but I think it makes more sense with the canon of Dragon Ball. This also corresponds with Vegeta's nickname for Raditz in Xenoverse 2: "baby Raditz." I think Vegeta would use Raditz's age against him, and along with Raditz being weaker and more prone to empathy, he would find "baby" to be the perfect insult for his Saiyan companion. 
> 
> BUT the whole point of this spill is that because Goku is canonically 24 when he dies alongside Raditz, Raditz would be 28 upon resurrection. Which, when we finally get to Vegeta and Raditz's reunion, will definitely come to play: Raditz is two years younger than Vegeta's son (and a year younger than his youngest nephew)! A "baby" indeed, haha. 
> 
> Bra: 20 (DOB February 776)  
> Raditz: 28  
> Marron: 25 (DOB April 771)  
> Trunks: 30 (DOB July 766)  
> Goten (and Valese): 28 (going on 29 DOBs in September/October)  
> Uub: 21 (DOB December 774)  
> Pan: 18 (DOB May 778)  
> Vegeta: 64  
> Bulma: 62 (going on 63/DOB August 18th, 733). 
> 
> UPDATE 04/01/2018: I have decided to officially say that this fic starts on August 13th, 796. So, Raditz is revived on Friday, August 19th, 796. Yes, Bra forgot her mother's birthday. Yes, that will come into play haha.


	3. Desperation, Side A

"Hey! Raditz!" Bardock yelled from below the tree his son slept in, arms crossed in typical Saiyan fashion. "You ready for another spar yet?"

Raditz groaned, massaging his temples as his father's voice interrupted his peaceful doze. "Father… we just battled the Ginyu Force.  _And won_. What more could you possibly want?"

"Maybe some one-on-one with my oldest son?" Bardock replied. "We haven't fought against each other in a while, and I'm really not in the mood for Nappa's close-combat, wrestling approach."

"Why don't you ask your friends?" Raditz inquired even as he descended towards his father, knowing full well he couldn't say no. Bardock would hound him for the next day or two if he declined his invitation now. Then he would never sleep. "I'm sure Tora wouldn't mind another go."

"No offense to them, but they're not as strong as you are," Bardock smirked, latching a firm hand onto Raditz's shoulder. He had to reach a little: Raditz was several inches taller than his father, only second in stature to Nappa. "And I'm looking for a challenge."

Raditz paused before returning his father's smirk, warmth bubbling at the pit of his stomach. Not like he would ever admit it, but his father's approval and compliments were something Raditz had grown accustomed to in the afterlife. After years of constant belittling from Frieza, Zarbon, and the prince himself, Bardock's recognition of his strength was a welcomed change. "Alright then, father. You win."

"I always do," Bardock winked and shot off into the air, his laughter deep and beckoning a challenge. "Let's head over to the cliffs in the north. We can do some real damage there."

"We'll see about that!" Raditz exclaimed as he chased after his father, adrenaline swarming over him. A plethora of his aura emitted from him, dark purple swirling around his hair and clothes. It had been a while since their last proper spar. Maybe he could even whip out a few old tricks his father wouldn't suspect.

But before they approached the battleground, a white light flashed and blinded Raditz, engulfing his form. He shielded his eyes from the piercing nuisance, but it did little: he couldn't see his father or the mountains in front of him.

"Raditz?" he heard his father call from behind the light, his voice alarmed. "What the—what's happening?"

"I don't know!" Raditz replied, fear slithering up his spine. The last time he'd felt this raw, this afraid...

He had died.

"Hold on, Raditz. I'll get you out of there!" Bardock shouted, his voice much closer than before. "Shit! What is this thing? I can't—"

But the rest of his father's words drowned out, the roar of rushing sand replacing his frantic cries. The white light flickered and intensified as Raditz felt his very soul ignite with bare flesh and solid bone. Blood flooded his veins, an unsteady heart pounding in the hollow of his chest. But this was impossible! The only way this could happen was if - 

" _Your wish_ ," a deep voice thundered above Raditz, and a thousand memories burst through his head: of his childhood on Planet Vegeta, of his training with Nappa and the prince, of discovering his brother was alive on some pathetic planet, of death and the story of a magical dragon, " _has been granted_."

And as the white light faded, faint blue hair fluttered across his blurred sight. A moment passed, and Raditz succumbed to the inevitable darkness.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Sweet!" Bra pumped her fist into the air as she caught her sixth fish, throwing the floundering creature into the handbasket off the shore. The lake swarmed with trout and bass, giving her enough food for both she and her guest when he woke up. He'd be starving, no doubt about that. Her father had said you could eat in the afterlife, but most of the food lacked taste, nurturing the soul rather than a physical body. Which meant the man had eaten nothing worth bragging about in a  _long_ time. Though, Bra wasn't the best cook. Out of the three young women in their little clan of warriors, domesticity fell easiest to Marron despite her mother's absolute lack of such qualities. 

That left her wondering: just what did Saiyan men look for in a woman? Strong genes and high power levels were essential, but did they care if a woman could cook? If they were pretty and flirtatious? From what her father had told her, Saiyan culture was a direct contrast to life on earth. Everything there had been built on power and prestige, emotions like love dwarfed by respect and camaraderie. Didn't mean Saiyans couldn't feel such emotions, however—if her father and Goku were anything to go by, she knew a full-blooded Saiyan could love just like any human. And she had asked for a Saiyan man like–

"Bra, just what the hell do you think you're doing out here?"

Caught off-guard, Bra swirled around and slipped, her back slapping against the cool water. Her hair whipped into her face, obscuring her sight of the blonde bombshell looming over the lake. "Marron, dammit! This is my favorite cut-off blouse!"

"Then why are you fishing in it?" her friend rebutted, a trace of a snicker edging into her voice.

"Ugh, that's not the point!" Bra flipped her wet hair out of her face, growling as Marron's smirk grew wider. "What are you doing here?"

"Mmmm, funny, I'm pretty sure I asked you that question first," Marron replied in mock confusion, twirling stray blonde locks around her finger.

"That's none of your business, blondie," Bra huffed, lifting herself out of the water and stomping towards the shore. "I told my parents and Trunks what I was doing. I don't have to answer to you."

"Oh yeah, the super sappy letter all about finding yourself and exploring the world," Marron rolled her eyes, "Please, no one bought that. Bulma checked for the dragon ball radar as soon as she finished the letter. That, and the fact you stole the four-star from Gohan's last night…"

"Typical Z warriors," Bra mumbled. "Can't keep their traps shut for more than a bloody minute."

"Like Pan wouldn't tell us. You know her," Marron replied. "Anyway, Vegeta and Trunks sensed Shenron the moment you summoned him. But when we could still pinpoint your ki without any sign of trouble, your parents thought it best if we left you alone…"

"And you thought otherwise," Bra finished for her, focusing her attention on the dead fish in the basket, "How did you even find me?"

"Oh c'mon, Bra!" Marron glided towards her friend, visibly hurt by the question. "Give me some credit. I've been your best friend since you were born. I can pick out your ki halfway across the world, no sweat."

Bra bit back the anger rising in her throat— _no one_  should have found her, considering how well she had covered her tracks. She was miles away from where she had summoned Shenron; its ki should have overpowered her minimal emissions and left even her father and brother guessing. But Marron was different; what she lacked in physical prowess, she gained in the expertise of ki control. In that regard, she was just like Krillin. "You know, Marron? You're right."

"Huh?" was her friend's unintelligible response.

"I said you're right," Bra repeated, her tone light-hearted as she swallowed the rest of her anger away. "You're my best friend and I should give you credit for finding me. I suppressed my ki as much as I could and you still found me within hours. That's pretty awesome."

At the unexpected compliments, Marron flushed red, casting her eyes towards the white sand beneath her shoes, "Oh, well…thanks, I guess."

"That still doesn't explain what you're doing here," Bra said.

"Likewise, princess," Marron replied, faux haughtiness laced in her tone. 

Bra crossed her arms and jutted her hips, strumming her fingers along her cool skin. It was an old-fashioned, BFF standstill - Marron even pouted her lips for added effect.

A fish jumped into the air and flopped back into the water, catching them both off-guard. They blinked, the facade broken by the fish's unceremonious intrusion. A moment later and contagious laughter spilled from their mouths and they collapsed onto the shore, Bra's wet clothes latching onto every grain of sand. She desperately needed a shower now.

"Jeez, for a moment I thought you were serious," Bra confessed, taking Marron by the hand and lifting them both back to their feet. "Almost like when we were kids."

"Yeah, we had some wicked fights back then," Marron replied, her eyes focused on the water, reflecting on their childhood days. "It wasn't fair though; even when you were a baby, you were stronger than me."

"Well, when you're the princess of all Saiyans, strength is just in your blood." Bra flipped her damp hair to the other side of her face then flexed her biceps, whistling low as her firm muscles glistened in the warm sunlight. Marron laughed at the exaggerated gesture and swatted at Bra's bare shoulders. "But, hey! At least you're a natural blonde."

"You can always dye your hair, you know."

"Yeah, but that would take the fun out of it," Bra admitted, letting the conversation dwindle. She couldn't take Marron back to the camp she had set up in the clearing, but Marron might have seen it, anyway. Still, what could she tell her? Perhaps if she diverted the attention away from herself… "So, you've been hanging out around my house more often, eh?"

"Indeed I have," Marron didn't take Bra's bait, and stuck her tongue out to prove the attempt was futile. "Trunks  _is_  my boyfriend. And I think your mom likes having me around. But I'm still not sure what your dad thinks of me after all this time since I'm… you know…"

"That has nothing to do with it," Bra shook her head. "Just because my dad and your mom don't get along doesn't mean my dad holds some kind of grudge against you. I think he sees you more as Krillin's daughter, anyway."

Marron heaved a sigh, winding her arms around her petite waist, "Still, it makes things a little awkward around—hey, wait a minute! I see what you're doing, Bra!"

At her friend's accusation, Bra waved one hand into the air, shrugging, "Fine, fine. You got me. You still don't know what I'm doing here and I'm trying to avoid the explanation as long as possible."

"Look, Bra-" Marron paused, pressing both of her hands against her chest. "If you had told me what you were  _really_  doing, I wouldn't have come. But you left the wedding reception without telling anybody where you were going and, well… I got a little scared. I thought you would do something stupid."

"Stupid?" Bra bristled at the word, narrowing her eyes. "Stupid like what?"

"When your mom said you took the radar, I thought…" Marron bit her lip and tore her stare away from Bra, embarrassment and guilt staining her cheeks. "I thought you might wish Valese never met Goten or-"

A sharp laugh interrupted the rest of her friend's words, "Oh my gosh,  _really_? Marron, what—oh my gosh! Marron! I can't believe you thought that!"

"I know, I know!" Marron admitted, giggling right along with her. "I guess I was being stupid, too. You were just so sad at the reception…"

"Believe me, you know I'm much stronger than that," Bra patted her friend on the shoulder while her laughter subsided, and then picked up her basket of fish as they continued to walk along the shore. "I'm a Saiyan! I can get over anything."

"So… does that mean…" Marron trailed, voice hopeful. 

Bra nodded, a bright smile escaping her, "Yep! I'm totally over Goten! Turning a new leaf and everything."

"That's wonderful, Bra!" Marron exclaimed, closing in to hug her best friend. "Really, that's great! Now we can find you a proper guy, someone who'll know how to treat a real queen bee."

"That's not necessary," Bra replied, shaking her head. "I'm done with human men of any kind."

"What? But that's all that's left," Marron frowned. "Unless you count the dinosaur and animal morphs, but you wouldn't-"

"Eww, gross Marron."

"But then who-" Marron stopped, her eyes almost bulging out of her sockets. Bra decided she didn't like that look.

She didn't like that look one bit.

"Marron, are you-"

"Where is he, Bra?" Marron asked, her voice hot and low.

Bra faltered for a second, trying to shake off her nerves through a wide smile, "What are you talking-"

"Don't play dumb," Marron interrupted her again, eyes narrowed and lips almost curled into a snarl. Bra didn't like that look either. "It all makes sense now. Leaving after our conversation like that, going after the dragon balls—Bra, how can you be so stupid!"

The last word sank into Bra's chest and her hold on the basket tightened. Who was Marron to call her wants stupid? A few years back, she'd been sobbing over Trunks and his complete infatuation with some action starlet. " _Don't_  call me that, Marron."

"I can call you whatever I want," was Marron's snide reply as her legs jumped off the ground and floated above Bra's head. "And until you tell me where the Saiyan you revived is, I'll keep calling you that! Couldn't you wait, Bra? I knew you were desperate, but I didn't think–"

"Don't call me desperate either!" Bra exclaimed, dropping the basket and shooting after Marron. When she was within reach, she pointed a finger straight into her chest, making sure it had enough strength to push the blonde a few feet back. "I could get any man I want at the snap of my damn fingers. If there is one thing I've never been, it's desperate!"

Marron kept her cool despite the verbal barrage, her ki low. Her posture was rigid, however, set to strike at a moment's notice. "Then what would you call this little escapade, huh? How is this  _not_  a desperate attempt to get the next best thing?"

Bra chewed at the bottom of her lip, Marron's words sinking in and stirring up doubt, making her all the angrier, "It's not like that!"

"It's not?" Marron almost sneered.

"At—at least not anymore!" Bra's voice neared a shril. Marron was right; Marron was  _always_  right. But how could she admit that now? There was a grown man sleeping in a cot a mile away, living and breathing all because of her…  _desperation_.

 _How pathetic_ , she thought as a lone tear slipped down her cheek, the hollow of her chest burning at the humiliation she would no doubt suffer. How would she explain this to her parents? Or to Trunks? Hell, how could she look Goten in the eye if he ever discovered what she had wanted instead?

"Bra…" Marron's voice softened, her harsh scowl reverting to the gentle compassion Bra was accustomed to. Her hands stretched out towards Bra, hovering near her chin. "Bra… you're—I didn't mean to get you this upset. I got carried away. But… Bra, this is  _serious_. It's not like you were reviving someone we knew and loved. This guy… he's a stranger, and he's a Saiyan. A lot can happen if anyone else finds out...so you need to tell me where he is."

"Why, so you'll get Goku or my dad to correct my little mistake?" Bra knew her defeat was inevitable, but she couldn't help it: always defiant, venom ready to drip from her lips. Just like her parents. Just like any queen bee. 

"No," Marron shook her head, wiping the stray tear from Bra's face. "So I can help you."

Her eyes widened and she looked up, her friend's smile as encouraging and thoughtful as it was ten years ago. The confusion must have been evident, for Marron laughed and wrapped her arms around Bra in a brief hug, "C'mon, you brat. You didn't think I'd leave you hanging, right? Sure, it was a  _dumb_  thing to do and you  _will_  fix it, but… I can lend a helping hand."

"Thank you, Marron," Bra mumbled into the folds of Marron's shirt.

"You're welcome," Marron drew back, the smile still wide on her face. "But seriously, where is this guy? There's no abnormal ki around here besides yours."

"It's probably because he's still recovering," Bra replied, swooping back towards the shore to grab her basket of fish. "He hasn't woken up since I revived him."

"Hmmm… the Saiyan race has been gone for a while," Marron mused before her smile bordered on mischievous. "So… how d'you get him over here then, sweet Bra?"

She chose not to answer the question. Still, the pink blooming across her cheeks was more than enough to satisfy Marron, "Doesn't matter. Let's just get this over with, okay?"

"Sure thing," Marron replied, following Bra as she led the way back to the portable home. "I've been dying for some freshwater fish for like a month now, anyway."

"Who said you get any?"

"Is that any way to treat the woman who holds your life in the palm of her hands?"

"…Can you help me with the seasonings?"

"Sure thing, blue."


	4. Just Another Mistake

"Whoa," Marron breathed out, sitting beside Bra on the couch across the man's bed. "That's some hair."

Bra snorted at the remark, but her focus remained on the man's gentle face and imposing stature. She liked watching his broad chest rise and fall; it calmed her. "That's all you can say? Don't you find him—"

"Handsome?" Marron finished for her. "Yeah. Of course; it's a natural trait for you Saiyans from what I can tell. And I don't know how it was possible, but he has  _more_  muscle mass and definition than your dad or Goku. And he's so tall! He hardly fits on that cot."

"That's better," Bra smiled and winked, pleased with the response. "I'm glad you approve."

Marron glared, but didn't entice Bra with further banter, "But that is a lot of hair. I hope he'll let someone cut it. You're small enough to get lost in it."

"Hmm, you're right," Bra giggled, standing up and offering Marron her hand. "That's enough ogling for now. You promised to help with the fish, remember?"

Marron hummed in agreement, taking Bra's hand, "I'm afraid that's the only way it'll be edible."

"Hey!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Raditz was roused by the smell and sound of sizzling fish.

He tried to open his eyes and sit up, but he quickly withdrew into his covers, the sheer amount of pain covering his body too much to bear. Ugh, what had happened in his fight with his father? He couldn't remember any of it. They were flying towards the mountain battlegrounds and then–

_White light. A wish. Blue hair._

And despite the debilitating pain, Raditz shot up from his mattress, a frantic gasp escaping his throat. Hot air filled his lungs and he almost gagged at the way his body squirmed with life. He could feel a mass of thick, black hair cascade down his back, and he felt the nape of his neck dampen with sudden perspiration. His feet wiggled from inside the blankets covering him, the soft cotton tickling their soles. He winced as his eyes scanned the room, the colors brighter and sharper than they had been in hell. The whites of the walls, the red velvet of the couch across from him… each piece of furniture was rich with hues Raditz hadn't seen in over thirty years. 

And the _smells_. A Saiyan's sense of smell was phenomenal, and the combination of cooking fish and caramelized garlic overpowered Raditz. His stomach rumbled and his vision blurred; he would have to eat soon. But as the scents normalized and subsided, Raditz picked up on a strange, delicate fragrance filling the room. It was flowery, a hint of passion fruit wafting beneath its floral overtones. It reminded Raditz of the gardens outside King Vegeta's castle, the only flowers he had seen on his home planet. After another strong whiff of the aroma, Raditz decided he liked it. 

Raditz took another long, deep breath and plopped his sore body back onto the mattress, already exhausted by his stroke of fortune. None of this made any sense; he had waited  _years_  for the prince to revive him before accepting his dismal fate. The afterlife in hell was pleasant with his parents and Nappa, anyway. What could have prompted his return? And more importantly, who could have wished for it?

 _There was that blue hair_ , Raditz remembered as he looked towards the lone window in the room, sunlight streaming through. Vibrant warmth sunk into his skin and Raditz relished the feeling. Warmth like this, even when he was alive, had been rare.  _And that woman with Kakarot had blue hair…could it have been her?_

Raditz tried to recall the memories of that day, but just the thought sent his new body bristling, bile rising to the top of his throat. He had died at the hands of that wench's friends—at the hands of his own brother! Why the hell would they wish him back now? He had accepted his fate. He  _liked_ hell.

Anger swarmed over his warm skin, quickening his pulse and the beat of his heart. His fists ached to punch the wall beside him, but he could hardly sit up, let alone stand and walk. How long did it take to recover from a thirty-five-year death, anyway?

"Oh my god," a voice from the other side of the room caught his attention and Raditz turned his head, surprised by the petite woman standing in the doorway. She lacked the blue hair he had caught sight of, and she didn't look like any kid Kakarot would have with that woman. Oddly, she sort of resembled the tiny man he had knocked into that house.

When she said nothing else, mouth frozen and agape, Raditz raised a hand towards his face and waved, using his voice for the first time since his revival, "Hello."

The word came out stiff and it was strange to feel his throat vibrate at the sound, but it seemed to do the trick. The woman scurried back from wherever she came from, shouting out to someone named Bra.

Luckily, he could pick up on the mumbled conversation. Saiyan hearing was damn good, too. 

"Bra, he's awake!" the woman hissed.

"Huh? You sure?" another voice asked, this one a touch more feminine and proud.

"Yes, I'm sure! Now go over there and tell him what's up."

"Okay; you stay here and look after the fish."

"Are you kidding? There's no way I'm leaving you alone with him."

"Please, Marron. You're talking to his princess."

"Like he'll believe you with that kind of hair."

"Just—ugh, fine. Stay outside the room and I'll call you if I need any help. I'm sure if push comes to shove, we can take him out no problem."

Raditz crooked a brow, trying to absorb the vague information before "Bra" rounded the corner. Hisprincess? How was that even possible? The only other royal family member alive was Vegeta's younger brother. There were no princesses on his former planet. And taking him out - that blonde and this "princess?"

Did they have any idea who they were dealing with?

"Ohhh, you are awake," Raditz turned his head once again to the doorway. This time, his eyes bulged.

It was her. The woman with the blue hair. But her hair was longer and she seemed…younger? Taller? No, that couldn't be right; over thirty years had passed. That woman had to be in her sixties by now. This was—could it be–?

"They had another," Raditz groaned, a headache budding at the back of his skull. He definitely didn't miss those; the prince could stir up several daily, "I can't believe that fool."

The blue-haired woman cocked her head to the side, lips twisted into a slight pout, "Hmm? What do you mean?"

Just as clueless as Kakarot, too. Wonderful. "Are you not the daughter of that woman? I believe Kakarot called her Bulma?"

Her eyes widened at that remark, her form shrinking away from the doorframe, "Wha…h-how do you know my mom? And no one else calls Goku that besides my dad!"

Okay, so that was unexpected. Kakarot wasn't her father? And she didn't know who he was? Then why was he revived in the first place? "You mean to tell me Kakarot isn't your father?"

"Eww, no!" the girl shook her head. "Goku and mom…eww! They're the best of friends but they definitely don't see each other that way! Ugh, now that image will be stuck in my head for the next three years. Gross."

Odd…he could tell from her lean arms and legs she was a fighter, though how capable she was had yet to be seen. That Bulma woman wouldn't have trained her… and her father called Kakarot by his Saiyan name. "Then who is?"

"Wait, hold on!" the girl threw her hands in front of her chest, taking a cautious step towards him. "You still haven't told me who you are and how you know my mom. Did you two meet in space?"

Raditz shook his head, the frustration he had felt earlier building up again. Had this been a mistake, his revival? This woman had no idea who he was or what had occurred between him and Kakarot all those years ago…he'd been forgotten, just as he had imagined. Just as he had feared. "No, we didn't. I… _met_  your mother on earth. Kakarot, too. And the day I met your mother, I died."

"You—you died?" she took another step towards him, her face softening. "On the day you met my mother…you call Goku by his Saiyan name…"

She stopped, eyes widening once again. Her fingers shook a little and her body stiffened. Contempt etched into her face, a scowl adorning her pink lips, "That–!  _That asshole dragon_!"

At the abrupt shout, the blonde woman re-entered the room, her face ashen, "You have to be kidding me, Bra! You revived—"

" _You_  revived me?" Raditz turned his attention back to Bra. This woman revived him, instead of her mother or Kakarot or any of the others he had met? But for what?  _Why_?

"Oh my god, Marron, my dad is going to kill me," Bra groaned, dropping onto the nearby couch. "I can't believe this, I can't believe this,  _I can't believe this_."

"Well you better believe it," the blonde said from behind her. Her fingers curled over a steel coat hanger on the wall and Raditz swore it bent within moments. "This got a hell of a lot more personal."

Bra ignored her friend, hands over her ears and eyes glued to the flower patterns on her skirt. Acting as though the world itself was ending.

"Well, at least you know who I am," were Raditz's next words, his tone every bit as bitter as he felt. "Though you have yet to say my name. Or yours. Or who your father is. Or why I'm here."

"I'm sorry," Marron tried to smile, but her lips only strained from the pressure of their situation. "You're…you're Raditz, right? Goku's brother? My father told me stories about you when I was little."

"And your father is…" Raditz trailed. He had his suspicions on whom, but it didn't matter to him overall. It wasn't she who wished him back. Still, nice to know he lived on in stories, albeit more vicious and frightening to excite the likes of a child.

"You hit him in the face," Marron replied. "On that island. His name is Krillin and he's your brother's best friend. My name is Marron and this is Bra. She's—"

"Let me tell him," Bra insisted, sitting up straight with determined brows. "It's only right."

Marron shrugged and Raditz gave his full attention to the blue-haired girl once more, a little unnerved by how much she looked like that Bulma. Some could find it strange, how he remembered such details; he'd only been on that island for ten minutes or fewer. But with eternity at his fingertips and shallow regret eating away at his stomach, Raditz remembered everything, wondering what could have been done or said to turn things around. So he wouldn't have died or lost his brother.

"So, as you know, my mother is Bulma," Bra started, her voice taking on an air of authority that Raditz was all too familiar with. "And my father…well, it's a long story on how they ended up together, but, well…he's Vegeta…your prince."

Well, he didn't see that one coming. At fucking all _._

"You have got to be shitting me," Raditz almost growled, his sore fists bunching the blankets close to his chest. His desire to slam his head into the wall surged, but he lacked the strength to even shake. "How is that possible? Vegeta's your father? And your mother is that woman?"

"I—I know this might be a little shocking to hear," the girl kept her cool despite his agitated disposition, her body a tad more rigid. "But it's the truth. I'm sure you've wondered what happened to Vegeta since he never—"

"Don't assume anything," he spat. "That bastard left me for dead, and I know all about the little prince's escapades on Planet Namek and Earth. Hell is fond of gossip."

"Oh," Bra blinked. "But none of his enemies mentioned his son Trunks? Like Cell?"

"That's his son? I always thought that was another one of Kakarot's brats."

The blonde shook her head, "No, Goku only had two sons, and one of them was born after the Cell Games. His name is Goten."

Raditz snorted, "Of course it is."

Silence thickened between the trio, all lost in thoughts of what to do next. Raditz was perturbed: Vegeta had a mate.  _And kids_. The most anti-social son of a bitch in the universe had a perfect little life with a perfect little family and he had left Raditz to die.

_"He laughed, you know," Nappa said. "I wanted to revive you and I thought we would and he just…laughed."_

"You're taking this rather well," Bra was the first to speak, her hands now sitting on her knees. "You know, for a Saiyan."

"Thirty years in hell tends to mellow a person out," Raditz replied, the ghost of a smirk finding its way to his lips. "But if my body wasn't in a state of complete and total shock, I'd have bashed this wall in five minutes ago."

The girl giggled, the sound tingling in his ears, "Well, it's a good thing you're not one hundred percent yet; I don't have another capsule other than the jet. Not very comfortable, to be honest."

He didn't know what this "capsule" was, but Raditz nodded either way. Still, she had yet to answer the question gnawing at his sides, and it outweighed the disgust clawing up his chest and towards his throat, "Why am I here?"

Her giggling abruptly stopped, smile wiped clean off her face, "Uh…come again?"

Really, she  _wasn't_ Kakarot's daughter? "I asked you why I'm here. Why did you revive me after all this time? Did your father send you? Or Kakarot maybe?"

The girl crinkled her nose, her stare darting across the room and avoiding eye contact. Before Raditz could ask again, the blonde answered for her, tone much more at ease, "She wanted you to be her partner."

Bra jerked out of her seat, whipping her head back to glare at her friend's rascally grin, " _Marron_!"

"What? It's the truth," Marron shrugged, chuckling. "Besides, he deserves to know, right?"

"Partner?" Raditz tilted his head, curious. "What kind of…partner?"

"A –"

"Sparring partner!" Bra exclaimed, smothering Marron's mouth with her hand. "I wished for a sparring partner to train with!"

"You revived me…to spar with you…" Raditz trailed, the words settling into his skin. But unlike the sunlight that engulfed him in a comfortable warmth, Bra's answer chilled him, a sharp, icy rage biting at his stomach. He'd been revived by Vegeta's daughter. He was supposed to spar with Vegeta's daughter.

He would be used by Vegeta's daughter.

Bra didn't catch his darkening expression, laughing and nodding her head as fast as she could, "Yep! Sure did."

Marron pulled away from Bra, eyes narrowing, "Oh, really Bra? Care to tell him why?"

Bra didn't miss a beat, "I needed someone around my level to help me train and ascend to Super Saiyan. As the one and only Saiyan princess, I feel like it's my duty to achieve a feat every other Saiyan has, you know? And I guess Shenron just thought Raditz would be the perfect candidate."

Another giggle escaped her and Raditz almost recoiled from the sound. He couldn't believe this. Hadn't he paid his dues? What was with the fucking universe trying to humiliate him at every possible turn?

"I'm to be the princess's sparring partner," Raditz said, the words tasting like ash.

"Yeah! It should be…" the giggling faded, the girl noticing the grimace twisting his face a second too late. 

"I'm to be the princess's little  _plaything_."

Memories of years long passed zoomed across his eyes: of training with the young prince, of being beaten and used, of being called trash by the very boy he swore at the impressionable age of six to serve until his dying day. And Raditz - poor,  _foolish_  child that he was - had been stupid enough to think the prince would have a change of heart as they grew up together. That maybe, if Raditz's life was on the line, he would come to his rescue, as the leader of his people should.

Time and time again he had hoped. And time and time again, Vegeta had proved him wrong.

But his allegiance to the prince broke the day he set foot on earth. He owed the prince no favors. Especially none that concerned the self-entitled brat that wished him back.

"No…" Bra shook her head, drawing closer to the man in an attempt to console him. "That's not – that's not what it's like! Please let me –"

"You've explained enough," Raditz said, throwing off the covers with the little strength his body could muster. Even then, the blankets shot across the room to the other side of the wall, knocking over a lamp. "And now I have no reason to stay."

"Don't act rash," the blonde said, her form more closed off and defensive. This one knew when trouble was approaching; it had to come from her mother's side, then. And Raditz was sure he had no idea who that was. "Your body's still recovering. You can't possibly walk out of this place, let alone fly."

"What do you know of Saiyans or death, woman?" Raditz retaliated, unaccustomed to a woman telling him what he could or couldn't do.

Despite the tense atmosphere, Marron smirked, a flash of a challenge sweeping over her face, "I've been around you freaks all my life; I'm even dating one. And I died once—it was hardly anything I would call fun."

"Then you should understand that as a Saiyan, I'm not going to stand by and wait to be beaten by a spoiled twig," Raditz replied, keeping his focus on Marron to add further insult to "his princess." What a joke – just asinine twist the fates had thrown at him.

"What…what?!" Bra seethed, shoving herself in-between the two as Raditz struggled to take his first step out of bed. "Spoiled? A  _twig_?  _No one_  speaks to me like that, especially not some asshole who should be thanking me!"

"Thanking you?" Raditz tried to sound as angry, but the utter amount of stress toppling into his body as he settled his feet onto the cool floor caused him to sound weary and weak."For what?"

Bra grunted in disgust, slapping a hand to her chest, "For saving you from hell! If it wasn't for me, you'd still be there suffering for all eternity!"

"You want thanks?" Raditz winced as he stood up, his legs as wobbly as a toddler's. "Am I to be gracious to the little princess? To serve under her like I did her father? Tell me, what will you do with me once you ascend? Leave me to die on a planet I know nothing about? Have my body rot in a field where I faced a humiliating defeat? Is that what you have planned,  _my liege_?"

The woman shook, her fists rising from her hips to the pit of her stomach. He could tell she was on the brink of tears, struggling to keep her composure in the face of accusations against her father, "Shut up. Shut up or I'm going to slap you."

Feeling rash and emboldened by her response, Raditz fixed one hand onto the girl's petite shoulder, taking his first step, "Go ahead. The prince did worse."

"Why are you fighting this?" Marron chimed in, her body taking up the whole of the doorframe. "You need rest! You can't go out there in your condition or you'll die!"

"I don't see how that's a bad thing," Raditz tried to smirk, but he could only cringe as pain burst through this torso, his stomach clenching tight with hunger and thirst. "I have no reason to stay."

"But you could—you could set things right with Goku and his family!" Marron pleaded. "You could be friends with all of us—even Vegeta. He's changed so much! And—and you could even become a super Saiyan, like–"

"For your information, I've already ascended twice," Raditz replied, releasing his hold on Bra as he took another laboring step forward. "My father taught me; I guess you didn't word your wish right, princess."

He turned to look back at the defeated woman, pleased her head was cast down in shame, hands limp at her thighs. Such a little fool, just like—

"No," Bra whipped around, her face hardened and eyes dry. "I worded it right."

Raditz crooked a brow, taken aback, "Come again?"

"Shenron gave me exactly what I wanted," Bra nodded, more to herself than to him. Then, startlingly, she dashed forward and pluckedRaditz (all six feet, seven inches and two hundred and thirty-eight pounds) from off the ground, curled his body into her lithe arms, and walked him back to the bed.

Raditz squirmed in her alarmingly sturdy hold, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Wha—what is this? Unhand me, woman!"

"My name is not woman," she said as she threw him back onto the bed, scuttling to pick up the blankets he had thrown beforehand. "My name is Bra and you will address me as so."

"I don't have to address you as anything!" Raditz countered, trying to no avail to stand back up. His body had already expelled whatever latent energy he'd possessed. Now he desperately needed a hearty meal and lots and lots of water, "You took everything away from me, just like your prick father! I had accepted my fate— _I was happy there_!"

"Well now you'll be happy here, where you belong," Bra replied, smoothing the covers over his wriggling body. "I didn't mean to wish you back, but I did. And we both have to accept it. You're my responsibility from now on and despite whatever you think of me, I'll make sure all your needs and wants are met."

His needs? His wants? "What could you possibly know of that?"

"As your princess, it's my duty to find that out," Bra stared down at him, her lips taking on the faintest of smiles. "Isn't it? And I'm sure the first thing you need is to recover here, at least until you can fly again."

It was unexpected, the way his body prickled with warmth at her words, how his heart skipped a beat at her kind eyes. He stopped wriggling then, his exhausted body melting into the mattress.

"Uh…Bra?" Marron cleared her throat, catching the two's attention. "The food?"

"Oh! That's right!" Bra bopped her head, laughing as she rushed over to Marron. "Completely forgot about that—I'm sure you're starving, right Raditz?"

Raditz said nothing. He only nodded and her smile grew at his response.

"Okay then! It should be done in a few minutes. Just try to relax while we're gone. We'll talk more then, I promise."

Raditz nodded again and watched the two women depart, not bothering to listen in on their conversation this time around.

She was his princess. He was her responsibility.

She was Vegeta's daughter, the prince that had abandoned him.

If only he could sit back up; if only he had enough strength to scream and punch that fucking wall.


	5. Something Familiar

Vegeta's morning was tame.

He uncurled himself from Bulma a quarter past eight, stretching out his recovered muscles thoroughly enough to take part in a training session by noon. While a Saiyan's body was much more capable than a human's as they aged, Vegeta had his fair share of sore backs and cramped toes. He was nearing his mid-sixties. And he was only mortal.

 _Not like that's a bad thing_ , he thought, his lips tugging into a small smile as he took another glance at his sleeping wife. Still a vision, even with her graying hair. He left before she woke up and caught him staring. Kais knew how often an occurrence that was.

He flew down the stairs and made his way towards the kitchen, his stomach already gurgling at the mere anticipation of food. While Vegeta was hardly a master chef, he knew how to whip up a half-dozen scrambled eggs and fry a piece of steak. Not like Bulma could do any better, or even Bra. All the culinary skills had been reserved for Trunks, apparently.

 _Hmmm, maybe I could get him to cook for me,_ Vegeta mused. It had been a while since Trunks cooked anything at home. He spent so much time on that island nowadays, swimming or watching local news with Marron. Not like Vegeta cared. It was good his son was in a stable relationship, considering his past affairs had been rather catastrophic. And Marron was a fighter, someone who would have no trouble keeping the Saiyan line thriving.

If only she wasn't that daughter of that  _thing_. Thirty years later and he still couldn't accept that she was part of their little clan, the wife of Goku's best friend and the mother of the child his son would likely marry.

Oh god. That meant they would be in-laws.

"Karma is such a bitch," Vegeta muttered as he cracked open one egg after the other. It was so typical of his life. Meet a low-class Saiyan, they beat you up and want to be  _friends_. Watch the same low-class Saiyan overthrow the very man who killed your people, does so by becoming a Super Saiyan. Loathe another person, and your son falls for her daughter.

He was almost surprised he and Bulma had kept their relationship together with all his shortcomings beforehand. Perhaps it was his one blessing; that and the children.

And speaking of children…

"Isn't it a little early for you to be up, son?" Vegeta asked Trunks, not bothering to turn his head as the young man entered the kitchen.

His response was a drawn-out yawn, followed by the sound of a refrigerator being ransacked, "I wanted to go to the bathroom, but Marron up and left me in the middle of the night. She didn't even leave a note."

That was surprising; she was usually a considerate young woman. Had to get that from her father's side. "Did you two get in a fight?"

"No, nothing like that," Trunks replied, his arms filled with bread, deli meat, and swiss cheese. "But…from what I can tell, she went looking for Bra. Her ki is in the same area and she left without her travel bag."

Vegeta grunted, the rim of the bowl underneath his fingers cracking at his touch, "I thought we said this wasn't a big deal? Whatever Bra wished for couldn't have been anything too risky or we would have had to save the world by now."

Trunks smirked a little, "That's just Marron for you—stubborn as she is curious. She could have left a note though - so I didn't have to figure it out myself."

Vegeta merely nodded, unconcerned with his son's relationship complications. He was more preoccupied with the fact that besides being Trunk's girlfriend, Marron was also his daughter's best friend. The only way it could have been worse was if Kakarot's youngest had pursued Bra instead of that bubbly earth woman. That would have been the kicker—his and Kakarot's genes colliding.

At least fate wasn't that cruel.

"You think they'll be okay, dad?" Trunks asked before taking a hulking bite of his sandwich. "I know I shouldn't be worried, but this is Bra we're talking about."

"They're two of the strongest women on earth," Vegeta replied. "And Bra is one of the smartest. You should know by now they don't need protection."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Trunks sighed. "Still, I'm getting this nagging feeling—what did Bra wish for? If she got what she wanted, shouldn't she have come home by now?"

"Your sister loves thrills and adventures. Maybe she wished for a map to some ruins, I don't know," Vegeta shrugged, pouring his whipped eggs into a pan. "She'll come home before school starts up or your mother will have her head. You'll find out then, I'm sure."

Trunks nodded, about to take another bite of his sandwich before his eyes widened, his brows arched in worry, "You don't think Marron's going to stay with her for the rest of the week, do you?"

Vegeta resisted the urge to sigh; seriously, when had he ever encouraged his son to talk about his love life around him? "If you're that concerned about it, visit them tomorrow if they don't return. Your girlfriend can't stand your lovesick face any more than me."

His son narrowed his eyes in mock offense but soon chuckled before wrapping up his sandwich and patting his father on the shoulder, "Good one, dad. Thanks for the advice. You still up for that spar today?"

"If you think you can keep up. Then yes."

Trunks chuckled again, "All right, I'll be in my workshop until then."

 _Damn, I forgot to ask him if he could cook the steak,_ Vegeta thought as his son glided out of the kitchen. And he seasoned them so well, too…

Before he could curse his latest misfortune, however, Vegeta felt a familiar ki flare in Bra's general direction, stunting his movement for a moment or two. That was strange. The ki wasn't Bra or Marron's—he could differentiate between the both of them by now (despite his reluctance to accept the latter). Still, it felt familiar, like he had been around it before. He made a quick mental list of all his human comrades—perhaps it was Tien; he lived in the nearby mountains. Yamcha was another candidate. Bra usually called her godfather whenever she had problems small enough for a human to deal with.

 _Whoever it is, they don't seem to be hostile,_ Vegeta considered, deciding it best to continue on with his morning and wait it out. The ki seemed like something they could handle fine on their own, anyway.

But it was just so familiar. It would bother him for the rest of the day. Maybe Trunks knew who it was.

"Babe, you cooking down there?" Bulma called from the second floor, her feet pitter-pattering across the steps. "Mind sharing?"

"You better hurry!" Vegeta exclaimed back. Guess he was cooking for two…

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The first half of breakfast went by in uneasy silence.

Raditz had snatched the plate away as soon as Bra neared, but she knew it would be foolish to react and rile up the situation again. Besides, maybe his temperament would soften up once he had food in his system.

Wishful thinking, considering she had plenty of evidence to the contrary.

His eyes stayed glued to his plate, taking large but cautious bites of the grilled fish and scrambled eggs. Given his stiff posture and perpetually narrowed eyes, Bra had a hard time deciphering if he actually liked what he was eating. If he was anything like Goten, he would have praised her the moment the first bite set in, complimenting her in just about any way possible. He was always so thoughtful and in-tune with her emotions… at least whenever Valese wasn't around.

As always, Marron was the first to air out the heavy atmosphere, humming out a gratuitous approval as she took another bite, "Wow, Bra! I really like the seasoning on this! You're such a pro in the kitchen now."

Bra grinned, even though it was obvious Marron was lying through her teeth. The seasoning had been of her own making. The only thing Bra had done was lather it on the fish, "Thanks, Marron. It came out much better than my last attempt."

Marron nodded, turning her attention to the Saiyan, "What do you think, Raditz? How's it taste to you?"

He grunted and nodded in response, shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth. He gulped it down and craned his head, eyes briefly meeting Bra's, "It's good. Probably better than some of the stuff they would give us on the stations."

"Great!" Marron exclaimed. "Would you like some more? It seems like you're almost done."

Raditz looked down at his plate, a few more pieces of fish stuck to the side. He gobbled the rest and handed his plate over, "Yes, that would be fine."

She stood up and took the plate, turning around to wink at Bra before she left the room.

Don't screw this up, was what she seemed to say.

Great; round two was about to start and Bra had only eaten half her plate.

"Are you sure you're a Saiyan?" Raditz was the first to speak, his gaze flickering over her plate of food. "You don't seem to have the appetite."

Her stomach tightened at the comment, almost demanding she prove herself by grabbing the food with her bare hands and gobbling it up like a caveman, "I _am_ a Saiyan and I  _do_  have the appetite, thank you very much. My mother told me it was rude to eat the way my father did, so I try to restrain myself, especially in company."

Raditz smirked, "How silly. Are manners worth more than your pride?"

Bra scoffed in return, clenching her fork so tight it bent, "Actually, on earth, decency and pride are intermingled, so yes. I have enough pride in myself not to act like some uneducated barbarian."

The man furrowed his brows, "Are you implying something, woman?"

"I already told you my name isn't woman," Bra bristled.

"Well, it sure as hell isn't princess, either," Raditz shot back.

"What's your problem?" Bra stood up, slamming her plate onto the nearby countertop despite her stomach's strong objection. "I thought we came to some sort of—I don't know—unspoken agreement like ten minutes ago!"

"Where did you get that idea?" Raditz crossed his arms. "The only reason I'm cooperating with any of this is because I _can't leave this bed._ If my ki was decent enough, I would have left as soon as you uttered the words 'Vegeta is my father.'"

"You would have done no such thing," Bra rolled at her eyes. Seriously, what was with Saiyan men? While Trunks and Goten weren't as bad, they had a tendency to be reckless. Her mother had told her quite a few stories. "You think my father or Goku wouldn't have picked up on your ki? All the strongest people on the earth are their friends. Any power level above mine or Marron's would have sent them straight to this location. What would you have done then?"

"Probably died," Raditz replied curtly, his voice laced with a seething anger he couldn't repress. "Vegeta and Kakarot seem to like me that way."

Bra flinched at the remark, unable to come up with a proper response. He was right; both her father and Goku had never expressed remorse or regret at reviving Raditz, at least not around her. Once her Uncle Tarble had come into the picture, she imagined Goku might have mulled over the thought of reviving him. But even then…nothing.

The man may be angry, but he was far more hurt than he let on.

"Well…" Bra trailed, taking a seat on the corner of the cot. "I know I wouldn't want you that way."

His eyes widened just a tad, his arms slacking against his chest, "…Why?"

"Because I think you're an okay guy," Bra affirmed, squeezing the mattress underneath her fingertips. "And even though we got off on the wrong foot, I still want to be your friend. You could have a good life here, you know. You can have friends and family."

"I already had those in hell," Raditz said, trying to remain defiant as long as possible.

Bra almost grinned, but decided that might send out the wrong message, "But you were dead. Here…you can actually have a life. Free of psycho overlords or petty first in-commands and—"

"And your father?"

Bra cleared her throat before replying to that, "Um…hopefully it wouldn't be, you know, like it was before… what was he like before, anyway?"

"I'm not sure you'd like the answer," Raditz replied.

"Probably," Bra agreed. "And I won't try to make up any excuses for him, but he has changed from what my mother and brother tell me. I know it'll be difficult, but could you give him a chance, maybe? If you're up for it in a day or two?"

Raditz sighed, his body brimming with a liveliness it had lacked minutes before, "Only if I get more of that fish."

"Great!" Bra suppressed a giggle and opted to clap her hands instead, a surge of joy shooting across her shoulders. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. "I'll go check up on Marron and see what she's up to."

She bounced off the bed and waved as she departed, rounding out the doorway until she heard his voice again.

"I still don't see you as my princess."

"And I don't think of you as my subject," Bra replied, not bothering to turn back. "Glad to know we're on the same page."

But he was her responsibility, and Bra would try her hardest to set things right. It may not have been the wish she wanted, but perhaps…

It was the wish she needed.


	6. Desperation, Side B

Initially, Piccolo ignored the new ki Bra had revived.

It wasn’t his place to get involved with the teenage girl’s theatrics. Of all the children, he found her the least tolerable. She was a lot like her mother: haughty, self-involved, and loud. Combined with her father’s pride and power, Bra felt like the personified embodiment of the avaricious, selfish desires Piccolo had long discarded. Being one of the youngest didn’t help either: she was constantly coddled as a child, and if Pan had not been born after, Piccolo assumed she’d be a much larger brat than she was now.

Still, this seemed a little far out there, even for her. Why gather up all the dragon balls to revive a stranger? The ki felt familiar, but it also reminded him of a Saiyan’s. But none of their Saiyan friends were incapacitated by death. Besides: why was she alone, so soon after Goten’s wedding? Didn’t she want to be around her friends? Was there trouble in the Briefs’ household? He would have to contact Trunks and—

 _Ugh, I’m doing it again,_ Piccolo suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Gohan had been one thing: he had trained the boy, saved his life, raised him when Goku could not. Piccolo loved Gohan as if he was his own son—his joy was Piccolo’s joy, and it Piccolo thrilled to see him settled down with a fearsome wife and a carefree daughter. Then there was Pan, who treated Piccolo like a grandfather of sorts. She had even called him “Papa Piccolo” a few times when she was a toddler, and it had taken all of Piccolo’s resistance not to demand she call him that from then on. Their spars were becoming infrequent as of late (possibly due to Buu’s human incarnation), but Pan still came by the Tower almost every weekend to chat and finish her homework.

The rest of the children, however, had weaseled into his heart while he had kept it unguarded. Goten was the first: it made sense, being Gohan’s younger brother. He was more rambunctious and lighthearted, and his smiles always seemed so earnest and delighted in Piccolo’s presence. Then came Trunks—while he was less humble and louder than his future counterpart, he was thoughtful, innovative, and had a perceptive cunning that could only come from two clever strategists. Marron was a sweet young woman with a tenacious heart of gold like her father’s; she was easy to love. Even the latest addition, Uub was a gentle, honest, and polite young man. He respected Piccolo’s time and would leave if Piccolo asked him to (not that he ever asked; Uub was also quiet, which made him a terrific meditation partner).

And then there was Bra.

Bra, who as soon as she could, climbed onto Piccolo’s tunic and wanted him to be her “pony.” The same Bra that begged for a turban of her own, but threw it away once she discovered it clashed with the rest of her outfit. The Bra who lounged around the Tower, snacking on the baked goods Mr. Popo had made while Marron and Pan trained. The Bra who excessively teased Pan for her crush on Uub, making the poor girl so nervous around his presence she almost threw up. The Bra who knew she was smarter and prettier and stronger than all the other girls at her school and gushed about their idolization to the rest of the Z family.

It was that Bra that Piccolo also loved, though he didn't understand why. She had her good qualities: she was supportive and generous with her friends and committed herself to school (though not to her training, as both Piccolo and Vegeta could attest to). Still, Piccolo felt that the good within her did not balance out her petty, selfish wants. But then again, it had taken Piccolo awhile to balance himself out. Perhaps, unlike the other children, she needed more time. Heaven knows her genetics had not helped her in that department.

Before Piccolo could (possibly) come up with a solution for that hot mess of a child, he noticed Marron had joined Bra in the lush forests east of the Tower. That didn’t surprise him: if Bra had done something stupid, Marron would try and bail her out. Marron and Bra’s relationship reminded Piccolo of Krillin and Goku’s: while Bra and Goku had massive ( _massive_ ) differences, they were both frighteningly insistent dreamers and genuinely believed nothing bad could happen as long as they followed their hearts. Marron and Krillin were realists and often had to use their practicality and common sense to ground their flighty friends. Piccolo only hoped that Marron helped Bra resolve her current predicament sooner rather than later—if more of the Z fighters found out that Bra had just revived someone because she felt like it, her world would crash down fast. And Piccolo wasn’t sure if he wanted this experience to be the one that humbled and changed her. Besides, he wasn’t perfect and neither were any of their—

And then he felt it.

The surge of ki was slight, barely elevating over a power level that either Bra and Marron could handle. It also didn’t last long: by the time he had registered who the ki belonged to, it had faded, and Marron and Bra remained safe.

But Piccolo took back his previous thoughts: he was very,  _very_ willing to let Bra take the fall for this little endeavor. As soon as he told Mr. Popo and Dende he was leaving, he sped off in the girls’ direction, not even bothering to keep his ki suppressed. Let them know he was coming—let every single Z fighter feel it and gather around the forest, too.

For Bra had revived Raditz, the man who had sent him down this spiral of redemption and adopted fatherhood. And he was sure no imagined reason would compare to her intentions.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

“So, you wished me back because you wanted to become a Super Saiyan, correct?”

If Bra had been less of a woman, she would have choked on the water slipping past her lips. But she was raised to be regal, sophisticated – and sophisticated young women did not choke when asked why they wished someone back from the dead. They also did not choke when presented with the boldface lie they had concocted to preserve their dignity, all the while keeping the true reason for reviving said person a complete (and mortifying) secret.

Bra turned her head to face Raditz, discounting Marron’s bemused grin. Bra felt as if Marron was enjoying her predicament a little too much, but Bra could hardly blame her. So many boys in high school had tried to woo Bra, presented her with chocolate and stuffed animals and science journals to obtain her affection. While she had accepted each gift, she often declined their invitations to dances or weekend getaways, still caught on the possibility that Goten would whisk her away once he understood a human woman could never satisfy him. And if she had been with a boy, well—only heartbreak would have awaited him.

But now, something different was happening to Bra, something of her own creation: she had brought a Saiyan man back to life, one displeased with that fact. He was Raditz, brother to Goku and her father’s former subordinate. He seemed like he wanted little to do with her and his new life. While he appeared ungrateful, Bra now understood the resistance to his dilemma: Raditz believed he'd been wished back for nothing, that his revival was one cosmic mistake. He had no purpose in this life, and Bra had stripped him of his content resignation in hell. And, he was right: Bra had wished him back by mistake, all because the dragon had interpreted her wish genetically. All that waited for him on Earth was a brother who, never once, seemed to care about his death and a former prince who laughed as he withered away on alien soil.

It was Bra’s responsibility to give this man purpose. Even if it meant lying.

“You are correct, good sir!” Bra exclaimed, giving him a quick wink before continuing, “I asked the dragon for a competent Saiyan warrior that could help me become a Super Saiyan. Because of my schooling, my training has been lagging and–”

“Just because of school, huh?” Marron egged on, her tone wavering between harmless mischief and amused wickedness.

Bra knew if she snapped at her friend, her shameful farce would crumble away. While Bra enjoyed being a fighter and one of the strongest people on Earth, she had put little stock in her training within the last few years. All of her attention had either been genuinely on her studies or (unfortunately) pining over Goten. And unlike Pan and Marron, when her studies became too stressful, she’d much rather shop or read a corny romance novel than hit the gravity chamber with her brother or father. Both went too hard and too fast for her taste, especially since her “taste” comprised of weights, running, and a few dynamic exercises. And sparring with either of them? Almost impossible to bear.

Her father called her lazy and unmotivated, but Bra didn't need to work at it like Marron. She was half-Saiyan—even more of a Saiyan than Pan! That didn’t negate the fact that Pan had ascended at thirteen, however. And with the help of Uub and Goku, she was close to her second ascension.

Now, Bra had a reason to become a Super Saiyan, more so than ever before. It could give Raditz purpose, a way to connect with all of their family and friends. Perhaps all of this was the sign she was waiting for—her ascension would help bridge the gap between Raditz and the others, and he could become a part of their totally weird, spectacular family.

“Yes, Marron. Just because of school,” Bra nodded, a tight smile plastered on her face as she addressed her friend. She flipped her attention back to Raditz, feeling his eyes on her. She stared back, resisting the urge to lose herself in the pools of black boring into her. His eyes were a little sharper than Goku’s, but rounder than her father’s. She had decided she liked them before she knew who he was. She still did.

Raditz blinked and moved his gaze towards the window. The sunlight hit his face and highlighted his sharp jaw and long nose, giving his skin an earthier, golden tone.

Bra didn’t want to admit he was handsome. Not anymore. But it was terribly difficult to manage when he had a face like _that_.

“And what if I said no?” Raditz finally spoke, his gaze still fixed on the window and the tall trees outside. “What would you do then?”

The question hit Bra harder than she expected. Her heart squeezed gently, softly, as if reminding her that despite herself, she was attached to this man in some shape or form. If he wandered around this world without her, without meeting the others or making amends with her father, Bra would worry. He was her responsibility.

 _But what if he doesn’t want to be?_  Bra contemplated, looking to Marron for support.  _What if all he wants is to be left alone? Would that be okay—would that be the right thing?_

“Bra…” Marron trailed, her hands folded in her lap. She appeared just as lost as Bra, but she pressed on. "What would you do? I think it’s only fair you answer the question.”

“I…” Bra was at a loss, but she knew what she had to say. It didn’t mean she wanted to say it, however. She squeezed her closed fists, ignoring the muffled groans rippling across her stomach. “I would do nothing. You're your own person, Raditz. I wouldn’t push anything onto you that you didn't want, especially after what my father did to you. I would—I would only want you to try and be friends with the others if you could. If that would be okay. And—and if you decide to be by yourself, that’s fine too! You can do whatever you want… I meant what I said before. You can have a life here. And it doesn’t have to be with any of us if you don’t want it to be.”

Moments passed, the room still. Bra realized she was holding her breath and watched as Raditz shut his eyes. A deep exhale haltingly escaped through his nose and his shoulders shuddered. Bra wondered what it felt like to need breath, to feel your lungs expand after years without a body. She imagined it could invigorate, as if hope itself nestled inside Raditz's chest, growing and blooming with every breath taken. However, it could also serve as a reminder - every breath haunting him, memories of a tarnished past flickering across his mind. 

When Raditz opened his eyes, Bra exhaled, noticing that his face appeared softer and resolute. He let out a short laugh, catching both Bra and Marron off-guard. He turned his head back to her, the black pools of his eyes a little less empty, cluttered with emotions Bra could not name. His face was smooth and his shoulders lax, as if his body carried less burden, less baggage. “Your rambling was unnecessary. I wanted to see what you would say.”

Bra’s heart squeezed, warm anticipation and hope blossoming over her chest. Her lips stretched into a wide smile, her voice bright, “Does this mean you’ll–”

“Yes,” Raditz interrupted, a smile of his own gracing his face. It was void of malice, and Bra decided she liked that too. “I’ll be your teacher. I’m sure I’ll need the exercise pretty soon, anyway.”

A beat passed before Bra jumped into the air, floating above the couch in a thrilled daze. Her laughter filled the room, fists pressed into her cheeks. Her head spun and her feet frantically swung beneath her, the victory of the moment enrapturing her. “Oh my god, awesome! Thank you, thank you! This is so exciting, wow!”

Marron laughed beneath her friend, her form relaxing. Her shoulders collapsed into the chair, and she craned her neck to watch Bra's rambunctious celebration. “Wow, Bra! I haven’t seen you this excited about training in a long time.”

Bra didn't reply, but continued to smile and laugh above the pair. Even she was surprised at how happy Raditz's acceptance had made her. Perhaps because it proved Bra's wish wasn't a total failure. She had an opportunity here, and she had to prevent it from wasting away. This could be big - it could change how the entirety of her family and friends functioned! And if Bra was known for anything (other than being wickedly smart and drop-dead gorgeous), she loved possibility. 

Everyone was getting a little too complacent anyhow, Bra thought as she settled back down into the chair beneath her. It had been a while since any dire conflict had touched her family, and she had yet to see one. She had only heard stories from her parents, Trunk, and Marron (though, being three, her memory was sketchy). Bra's life had always seemed safe, untouchable: she had the strongest people in the galaxy on her side, and all the evil in this sector of the universe feared the strength of Goku and her father. Maybe that could explain her restless nature - her need for adventure, for more than arm candy and perfect grades. A fulfilling challenge had yet to present itself; even if Pan had already ascended, Bra never felt a need to prove she was capable of the same. But that would all change. 

"So!" Bra clapped her hands together, her sudden giddiness providing her with boundless amounts of energy. "I'm sure you'll be hungry in a few hours, and if we want to start soon, you'll need plenty of food to rejuvenate you. How about I go out to fish some-"

A wave of ki crashed over the back of Bra's neck, and goosebumps shot across both her arms. She gasped and toppled over, feeling as if someone had swung a bat into her stomach. She didn't know ki could feel like this - even when her father was outright pissed with Trunks (because he could never be  _mad_ mad at Bra), his ki never spiked to such dangerous, almost threatening levels. And with the way the ki was now, she couldn't decipher who it was - if it was anyone they knew. 

 _So much for my untouchable life,_ Bra cringed. It was true Bra's life lacked the exciting danger that her father and mother had endured, but she also had never died. And she would really like to stay alive, especially since she'd brought someone back from the dead. 

"What is it?" she heard Raditz ask, his tone more confused than worried. "Don't tell me you two didn't cook the fish properly? Ugh, of course, my first meal is a death trap." 

"It's... it's not that," Marron's voice shook, and Bra finally craned her head upwards, watching as her best friend clutched her stomach and shuddered at the ki surging towards them. It was strange: was Raditz unfazed by that tremendous power? Perhaps he knew true power if such ki left him blinking and staring at the pair in disgruntled confusion. Marron composed herself, and took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, "But, just to be safe - we're going to step outside. Some... fresh air may be all we need. You'll be fine on your own, right?"

Raditz scoffed, "I'll manage." 

"Great - let's go, Bra!" Marron exclaimed, clasping onto Bra's hand and almost lifting her best friend into the air. All Bra could muster was a short yelp before Marron catapulted them out of the room, only managing a glimpse of Raditz's dumbfounded shock. Widened eyes, parted lips, brows furrowed... maybe it was all a trick of the light or how they dashed from the room to the hallway and out of the portable house, but Bra found this expression on the Saiyan man positively adorable. 

"You felt that, right?" Marron asked when they were a sizable distance away from the house. "I mean - you still feel it?"

"Yeah, of course I do!" Bra hissed, fear once again crawling up her spine and shaking her shoulders. "I've never felt anything like that before - not even when my dad gets that angry! I have no idea who it is, but -"

"I do," Marron interrupted as she clenched her fists and paced in circles, heavy and restless steps crushing the grass beneath her. "And from the way it feels - he knows." 

"What?" Bra asked, incredulous. Her chest chilled - naturally, Marron would know. She was far more adept with ki familiarity than she was. Bra was good at identifying her family and friends, but that was during a time of peace, when emotions like rage and stress remained latent. Ki was affected by intense emotions (at least, she remembered Gohan saying something like that once before). If she had never felt this particular emotion coming from this particular person, it could prove almost unrecognizable. And that led her to wonder (and to dread). "Please don't tell me it's my dad."

Marron vigorously shook her head, her braided pigtails slapping against pale cheeks. "No, it's not him. And it's not Trunks either." 

Bra exhaled, a small amount of her fear dissipating from her shoulders. Crisis (mostly) averted. Her father and her brother finding her now would have been the complete nightmare scenario. "Oh, thank every star in this damn galaxy. I was so -"

"It's Piccolo." 

And just like that, all breath left Bra's lungs and her heart stuttered. Words eluded her, throat tight and parched. Okay, scratch that: Vegeta and Trunks were the nightmare scenario. But a Piccolo flying towards them with unadulterated, unabashed fury was a close second. 

Bra took a slow, shuddering breath, her shoulders tense as air filled her lungs once more. Her arms and legs felt stiff, like she was trapped in chunky concrete. Every second Bra stood there, voiceless and unmoving, Piccolo continued his approach. Her terror lied within all the possibilities of his arrival: what was he going to do; what would he say? What did he want with Raditz - how did he even know? 

"Bra, we have to come up with something to say. Piccolo won't believe you like Raditz did - he knows you," Marron continued, trying to catch her friend's attention. She grabbed a hold of Bra's shoulder and shook her, hoping to coax the girl out of her frightened daze. 

Marron's words repeated in Bra's head, and she felt her heart grow cold again, recalling just how Raditz had died. "Piccolo...he was the one who... who killed Raditz, right?"

"Yeah... yeah, he did," Marron's words drawled.

"You don't think..." Bra trailed and felt her fists tighten and toes curl, unable to voice her next train of thought. Piccolo was good now - had been years before Bra was born. He'd even been good before her father had redeemed himself. There was no way Piccolo had come to - 

"Bra, listen to me," Marron's clenched her fingers around Bra's shoulder, and Bra could feel her polished nails digging into her tanned skin. The skin might have bruised, but Bra was half-Saiyan, and Marron needed nails of iron to rip into her flesh. "Piccolo isn't here to kill Raditz, but I'm pretty sure he only remembers his ki because he killed him before. Your father couldn't read ki when he and Raditz were...um, companions, I guess. So he wouldn't recognize it even if he wanted to. My father was knocked out before he could register anything, and Goku...well, he might not remember what Raditz's ki feels like. His death probably takes precedence over that."

 _That's why Raditz was acting like that_ , Bra thought. The ki hadn't unnerved him because he couldn't feel it. If he had learned the skill in death, it had not translated over with his newly acquired body. It made sense - if he couldn't ascend, then all the other skills he learned in the afterlife would take time to reformulate. But this relaxed Bra for just a moment, just enough for her heart to stop pounding and filling her ears with its terrified thuds. "So, no one else should know."

"That's right," Marron nodded, offering Bra the smallest of smiles. "Even if they did feel something near us, they wouldn't know who it was. Not even your dad."

"Oh - oh, good," Bra opened her mouth and swallowed another hearty gulp of air. Marron unlatched herself from Bra's shoulder, and she could feel the barest of pain and cool air wafting over her exposed skin. Life seeped back into her legs and arms as she floated above Marron, shaking the dread out of every bone and nerve. If no one else knew, maybe everything would turn out well enough. Maybe Piccolo wouldn't demand they follow him to the Sons' residence and explain themselves, maybe she wouldn't have to turn her new teacher over to some weird prison on Kami Hideout and watch him waste away from the other side of the glass. 

"Good morning, ladies."

Or maybe all that would happen anyway. 

The voice above her was neither pleasant nor cordial, and while Bra wouldn't call Piccolo pleasant company, he was almost always polite. Even when she was lounging on the sofas on Kami Hideout, reading magazines and popping peanut butter cups into her mouth, Piccolo's voice was never this strained or seething. Like he could callously snap a man's neck or drill a hole into his stomach, leaving him to rot on an unceremonious plot of dirt. 

Bra didn't have time to turn around: Marron jumped into the air and looped her arm over Bra's, flying them towards Piccolo's suspended location. She didn't have time to feel sick or scared or angry. There was a numbness grabbing a hold of her stomach, something she had felt only once before. Given it had been about Goten and his engagement to Valese, it seemed like a dumb thing to feel numb about. At least, in retrospect. 

They stopped a few hundred feet above the forest. Marron abruptly flipped Bra around, giving her little time to prepare. Her stare fixed onto green arms folded against a broad chest, the skin pulled so tight she could see thick, purple veins pulsing underneath. A white cape flapped against the unyielding form before her, and she could feel cold, black eyes pierce her forehead. Piccolo couldn't read minds, but Bra knew the fingers fiddling behind her back and her averted gaze was all he needed. 

Maybe if she spoke first, she could take control of the situation. Explain Raditz's revival in the most benign way possible. Even if Piccolo knew Bra was a lazy protégé - maybe she could persuade him with her Saiyan bravado and some innate desire to be powerful and surpass the limits of her own physicality. "Piccolo, I revived him to be my -"

"Whatever you're about to say, I don't believe you," Piccolo's words smothered the rest of Bra's shoddy explanation, her mouth agape. She didn't even have time to blink as Piccolo's glare moved from Bra and redirected towards Marron. "I came here to speak to you about the Saiyan your friend unwisely revived. I'm sure she's already told you enough. If we work together, we can plan ahead and make sure nothing happens to the idiot."

That snapped Bra out of her stupor. "Hey! Don't call Raditz an -"

"I wasn't talking about him," Piccolo clarified, but kept his attention on Marron. That deepened the anger broiling at the pit of Bra's stomach, and she forgot the fear she had succumbed to moments before. Her intelligence was one of her (many) prides. Calling her an idiot so flippantly, not even meeting her gaze...if that didn't bring out the Saiyan in Bra, not much else would. But as she seethed, Piccolo continued to address her with such a casual condescension her own father would approve of. "You need to go back inside that house and tell your new friend everything is fine. I'm sure he has no idea I'm here, and I don't need him getting antsy and matching your stupidity."

Okay: calling her stupid was one thing. Telling her what to do was another. Piccolo wasn't her father; he had no jurisdiction over her. Even if he had killed Raditz, that didn't give him any say. Raditz was a grown man, not some petulant child. "I'm the one who wished for him. I should be the one who plans how -"

Bra was cut off for a third time by Piccolo's bark, his stare drilling into hers. His face contorted with a rage that bordered on murderous, and Bra absently wondered if this was how Piccolo looked all those years before. He had to get the "Demon King" alias from somewhere. "You absolute buffoon of a Saiyan! The control you have over this baffling situation is nominal at best. And understand this, little girl: if you try to sabotage my discussion with Marron in any way, I'll make a beeline straight to your father and have him decide what to do with your wish. And I doubt he'll be glowing with pride over his daughter's moronic lack of judgment."

Bra shook, unbridled frustration trying to squeeze its way out of every pore on her face. This was the third person today that had made her feel less than, that made her remember all this grief resulted from... was the result of her - 

 _It wasn't desperation,_ Bra fumed. The fury singeing her heart and burning her throat soon pricked at her eyes, and she could feel their corners well up with hot tears. Bra sank her molars into the left side of her cheek to stop from crying and continued to do so even as blood seeped from the broken skin and dripped onto her tongue. The blood tasted like iron, but it was better than tasting the salt and shame of her tears. 

A tender pair of hands grabbed a hold of Bra's fingers and pulled them towards her chest. She looked up into Marron's gentle face, her expression soft with kind understanding; Marron had seen both Bra and her brother go through similar bouts of frustration, consumed by violent impulses they couldn't quite quell. And she was one of the few people who knew what to say to keep their wild hearts from combusting. "You're not stupid, Bra. And even if your intentions weren't...ideal, that doesn't mean you don't care what happens to Raditz. I know you, so I know what you'll want. If Piccolo and I can work together, then everything might be easier. So nothing bad happens to him. Or to you."

There was an unspoken " _please, understand_ " hanging in Marron's soothing voice, but Bra knew better than to object. Marron wasn't trying to tell her what to do. She was only advising, guiding her towards a suitable solution. One that kept Raditz free and alive. 

But Bra still felt like a child. Small and weak and unfit to think for herself. 

"I'll go back," Bra replied, and allowed Marron's relieved arms to wrap around her, a gracious "thank you" whispered into her ear. She didn't look back at Piccolo as she flew back onto the grass and walked into her portable home. She didn't want to grant him the satisfaction of her surrender, no matter how justified he claimed to be. 

No mascara adorned Bra's eyelashes today (thank god), so she worried little about black smudges and smears as she stepped back into Raditz's temporary habitat. While she was unsurprised to see him asleep, her breath stilled as she found him sitting on the chair she had previously occupied. Maybe because Bra's chair was closest to the bed; maybe because he didn't have the strength to reach the loveseat Marron had sat in. But it still brought a smile to her face, even as her gut twisted with bitter humiliation. There was nothing she could do about the discussion outside. 

Unless she punched Piccolo in the face. It's what her father would have done at her age. 

"Would you have done the same?" Bra asked the slumbering Raditz, watching his chest rise and fall with ease. Maybe she could fish out one of her mother's trashy romance novels from the hallway closet: something had to entertain her in the meantime. 

080808080808080808080808080

"Why did she wish Raditz back?" 

Oh; no pleasantries today. Marron had suspected as much, but Piccolo harbored no ill-will towards her or her parents. Having his sour snarls solely focused on her required a bit of an adjustment. Luckily, she could act as coolly as her mother when the situation called for it. "Are you sure that information is absolutely necessary to whatever plan we come up with?"

Piccolo scoffed and folded his arms tighter to his body, his nails scratching at his dark green skin. "I know you're her friend, and I know you're just trying to protect her. But you know just as well as I do that if I don't know everything I can about this - " Piccolo sighed, nose flaring " - debacle, then both she and Raditz will face harsh consequences, especially from Vegeta. He loves Bra, but I suspect a relic from his unsavory past will rouse memories and feelings he hasn't dealt with for a long while. And I doubt Bra resurrected the poor fool to see him killed again." 

Piccolo's logic was sound. It always was. Bra hadn't sworn Marron to secrecy either. Planning alongside Piccolo was the only way Raditz would come out of this predicament unscathed. She didn't think Vegeta would kill Raditz on sight; then again, Marron recalled when Vegeta allowed darkness back into his heart, killing all those people just because he could. Her mother cradling in her arms, muffled screams penetrating her covered ears, white and yellow lights blinding her...for the first time in her life, fear had shot across her chest, curled into her stomach and stiffened her legs. She was helpless, watching Goten and Trunks rush off into battle while she sat on her mother's lap. That day had stirred something within her, a desire to protect herself from any evil that wanted to harm her and her family. It was a day she would never forget, and she would always remember that Vegeta was the cause. 

Bra, however, had never seen her father slip. Never seen the evil that shot from his fingers and spewed from his mouth. Marron would protect her from that image. Even if it meant disclosing Bra's desperate intentions. 

"I'll tell you," Marron replied, shifting her hands from her hips to the center of her chest. "Just...just don't laugh or roll your eyes. Or do anything, really."

"I'll keep it a secret, if that's what you're worried about," Piccolo said. "But I can't promise how I'll react. I still can't fathom why she'd wish Raditz back."

"Well, at the very least: reviving Raditz was an accident," Marron clarified, squeezing her shoulders closer to her neck, bracing herself for the reveal.

"An accident?" Piccolo's brows stitched together, puzzled by the new information. "Now I'm really confused. How did she accidentally revive someone like Raditz?"

"She, uh..." Marron trailed, her neck hot. It wasn't her wish, but Kais above, that didn't make it any less embarrassing to say out loud. "Her wish was, well...she wished for a Saiyan like Goten."

"Why?" Piccolo asked, the implications of Bra's wish flying over his head. 

 _Holy hell, he's really making me say it,_  Marron thought, fingers curling and pressing into her sternum. Her heart thumped underneath her skin, veins on fire. This part of the conversation needed to end now. Her voice shrilled, words scrapping against her throat and stumbling off her tongue, "She wanted him as a boyfriend because... _she's been in love with Goten since she was eleven years' old!_ " 

Silence immediately thickened between the pair, the truth heavy and stripping Piccolo of any flagrant reaction. His eyes widened, body rigid with held breath. Wind swept over and cooled Marron's reddened face and skin, but it did little to ease her heart. Piccolo knew the truth - the complete truth. Marron wasn't even sure Bulma knew of Bra's unrequited affection. And if she did, Bulma would never suspect this as its result. 

When Piccolo collected himself, his words clipped, as if still trying to process the startling, mystifying explanation. "Bra wished for a Saiyan. A Saiyan like Goten. To be her mate. And Shenron gave her Raditz."

Marron gulped and nodded. She elaborated, voice raw, "Yes, that's the gist. Bra obviously meant a Saiyan that was kind and sweet like Goten. But instead, Shenron gave her -"

"The closest genetic match," Piccolo finished, his lips and nose scrunched up and quivering in revulsion. "She's not actually going to -"

It was Marron's turn to interrupt, sudden anger filling her lungs with hot, stifling air, "No, of course not! Bra told him she wished for a Saiyan who could help her ascend. He accepted, too, so the only step left is to, you know, re-introduce him to everyone."

Piccolo narrowed his eyes, ignoring Marron's confidence in her friend. "You're absolutely certain she has no intentions of - ugh, courting him? And he doesn't find her...damn, this is just - " he bared his teeth and looked to his feet, nails pinching at the terse flesh underneath, "-he doesn't find her attractive or appealing or whatever, right? Will anything come between them?"

"Raditz knows she's Vegeta's daughter," Marron replied, voice wavering. "I... I don't think he'll ever want to fall in love with her. And it doesn't seem like he's anything like Goten."

"I'm not asking you about what they want, Marron. I'm asking if you think something can happen." 

Marron remembered Bra calling Raditz handsome. She remembered Raditz accepting Bra's offer with a smile, and how Bra flushed before she jumped in the air, elated. There was a possibility, a chance something could spark given the proper setting and right circumstance. But Raditz loathed Vegeta more than anyone; he had made that clear enough. And Bra...

"What if I say yes?" Marron conceded. If anything, Bra could grow fond of him. Fond enough to fantasize about love and kisses underneath a starlit sky. But this was another dead end. Bra would not find her fairy tale in the arms of a haunted, forsaken soldier. 

"Yes means we work together," Piccolo replied, black eyes focusing back on Marron. "And we make sure that doesn't happen. Because if it does..."

He didn't finish his thought, too consumed by the absurdity of their predicament. Marron understood, however. She knew just as much as Piccolo. Knew just as much as Raditz, of the destruction Vegeta was capable of. 

Marron steeled herself, channeling her mother's cold, sound intuition and pushing out her father's romantic spirit. It would only inhibit her judgment. "Okay, you know. Now, what are we going to do?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW I'M BACK. 
> 
> Okay, in my defense: I was in the process of finishing school, hating my job, and dealing with a lot of family trauma/drama in the last six months when I was trying to get this story rolling again. BUT, as I was driving from San Francisco to Southern California due to said family trauma, I had a breakthrough with this story and for the first time E V E R, I have a complete outline of a fic. Which, is pretty outstanding for me honestly. And with school finally finished, I have the time and motivation to finally finish this thing! 
> 
> Both Raditz and Bra hold special places in my heart, and boy howdy do I want to just write about Raditz grappling with his new life and Bra going through with her training so that he'll never learn the truth. But I had to get through this chapter, which is essentially a transition into the next "arc" of the story. These are scenes I'm especially looking forward to writing, and I can't wait to share them with all of you! Truthfully, I'm not entirely sure I like everything about this chapter, but I'm sick of looking at it, haha. If I ever find a way to improve it in the future, I will. 
> 
> Lastly: expect chapters to be a lot longer than the first initial chapters. They'll still vary length, but they'll be typically anywhere from 4000 - 8000 words a chapter. I also plan to update monthly AT LEAST, and I'm going to try my best to keep that schedule! This is the year I get back on track with writing, and if I want to be a writer, I gotta write (duh)!


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